What She Wants
by padfoot's prose
Summary: Lily Evans doesn't know what she wants. But all she needs is James Potter to make it all clear. "Whenever I'm asked what I to do in the future, I never know what to say... so why is it that with James Potter by my side, it all seems so simple?" LilyPOV LJ


**[UPDATED & SPELLING/GRAMMAR-CHECKED 24/10/2010]**

**A/N: Another one for Kitty Easts's 25 Challenge. Prompt: _Tell_.**

**This story has been in the corners of my mind for ages, and I just needed to get it out. Sorry if it's a bit rough around the edges. School is pretty crazy right now, and if I don't post this now I'll forget to do it later.**

**It's first person POV, Lily. I just realised that it never actually says that, so I thought I should point it out**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the insane thoughts going through this girl's head.**

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**What She Wants **_**by Jg Rox**_

_For me, because my mind is about as crazy as Lily's right now, only I don't have a James to sort it all out for me._

Whenever someone asks me what I want to do when I finish school, I never know what to say.

To the teachers, I look down and blush, telling them, "I don't really know yet. I'm sort of hoping to find myself, I guess. To find something that I really enjoy, and to be able to just go out and do it." They smile and nod. "Everyone's looking for that thing," they say. "I hope you find it."

To my friends, I laugh. "I have absolutely no idea. I want to travel and go to all those places that you've heard of but never been to: Liberia and Morocco and Greenland. I want to go and study something - start getting myself a career. And I want to be happy, of course. Whatever I'm doing, wherever I am, I want to be having fun."

But to myself, the one person who really matters, I go quiet. Because I'm telling the truth to those other people, partly, at least. I _do_ want to be happy, and I _do_ want to find that thing that will give my life a meaning and a purpose. But those aren't things that I want. They're things that I'm going to get. I'm going to do something that I enjoy because I'm not a masochist - I don't like doing things that I don't enjoy, so I don't do them, it's just who I am. And I'm going to find something that gives my life meaning, because I wouldn't be able to live without a meaning. I'm not stupid enough to leave school and plant myself right in the middle of a scary, unfamiliar world that only gives me sadness and stress. I'm going to do the things I want to do, and those things are going to be great.

Finding meaning and finding happiness are going to happen. I know it. I know it so well that I don't even want them anymore, not really. It would be like wanting to leave school: I already know it's coming, so why rush it?

So what do I really want? The answer to that used to be so easy: love. It sounds simple, right? I just want to fall in love. It's not much to ask, is it? But having been able to get to know boys, knowing what they're like and being able to see the types of men they're going to become, it's kind of tough to even dream of falling in love with any of them.

Which is why I was so surprised when James Potter sat down beside me late on a Sunday night, let out a long, exhausted-sounding sigh and asked, much to my surprise, "How are you?"

"What?"

He looked like he wanted to smile, but didn't have the energy for it. "How are you?"

I shrugged. "Okay. You know how it is with NEWTs and Head duties and stuff. I've been better, I guess. But I'm okay."

"That's it?"

"What's it?"

"That's it? That's all you had to say? You look constipated, word-constipated I mean, and I just figured you must have a lot that you want to say, but you don't know how to get it all out. I thought I could help."

I faltered, completely out of my element in dealing with James Potter's new eagerness to listen. Not that he isn't an all right guy. Like, we've had our difference in the past, but we're over that now. Through the tunnel and out the other side. I wouldn't say we're friends, but we're far from our old status of sworn enemies. At least, that's what I thought of him of. As far as I know, he's always sort of fancied me though, so he probably didn't think of me as an enemy.

"You want me to spill my guts out to you? To tell you everything that's on my mind?"

He shrugged as if he couldn't care less. "If you want."

I shuffled uncomfortably.

_Want_.

What was it with that word? And why was it that, sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room at midnight on a Sunday with James Potter by my side, it all seemed so simple? _What do you want?_ I wanted love. Is that so bad?

I wanted a guy – a man – who could see me as a real person with real feelings. Someone who just might actually be able to see that I can be beautiful and sexy and smart and funny and loving and kind, all at the same time. A person who didn't just put me into a category, tick me in a box. I didn't want to be just one word anymore – student, nerd, smart-arse, bitch – I wanted to be a sentence. Maybe more than a sentence.

Maybe I could be a woman. No, more than that, a _person_. A real person, with a life and a story to explain that life. Someone who has a past that they don't want to let go of, a future that's coming too fast too soon, a present that's full of feelings. A person with confusion, regrets, anticipation. Someone with desires and passions and fantastic intentions, who just can't quite work out what to do with them all.

That's all I really wanted. I wanted to be asked about my story. I wanted to _have_ a story to tell.

So, I guess if you wanted my story to be epic and huge – if you wanted it to outlast time, to transform from just being words on a page into being a life that lives on in people's hearts – then you could say it all started with what he said next. You could say that, when he leant forward, his fiery hazel eyes looking straight into my own green ones, it all began. That the key moment, when my entire life was turned upside down (or maybe even turned right way up, after having been upside down all the time until now), was this one.

The moment when he said, "Tell me." And I did.


End file.
